


No Time to Waste

by AlwaysawaywiththeFairies



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Longing, Memories, Reunion, childhood crush, sister bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-01-24 13:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18572734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysawaywiththeFairies/pseuds/AlwaysawaywiththeFairies
Summary: She remembers the exact moment, when she was still little, in which the idea of kissing him had occurred to her for the first time.Set between episodes 8x01 and 8x02.My first fic in archiveofourown. Hope you enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

It was a little like when she realized for the first time that she could kill anyone if she wanted to. Sometimes it might be quick, sometimes it would take some sort of elaborate planning, but the fact remained that the power was in her hands.

She could sneak on him on his way to his chambers when his and Brienne’s sparring was over, and kiss him, and she knew he would kiss her back. Or she could wait until everyone but him had left the forge for the day. She could find him when he was on his way back from the hot springs, which had marvelled him so much when first seeing them that Jon had personally ordered the guards to allow him in and out whenever he felt like it. She could wait to kiss him until the very moment the dead set foot on Winterfell, and he would still kiss her back. She had seen it in his eyes, him realizing the inevitability of it, the same way she had seen it in the eyes of any person she had ever killed.

She remembers the exact moment, when she was still little, in which the idea of kissing him had occurred to her for the first time. It was too hot, and Hot Pie was snoring worse than ever, and Gendry was, as usual, sleeping like a dog. His face was very close, and it looked softer and younger than it did when he was awake and, while no one could claim he smelled good, he was far from the worst in the group. The thought of what it would be like to kiss him just appeared out of nowhere, startling her. What bothered her the most was imagining the satisfaction Sansa would get from knowing that such an idiotic idea had even entered her mind. Sansa, with her beautiful hair, and her beautiful eyes, and her beautiful face, and almost his age. Had she been in Arya’s place, it would have been her sleeping peacefully while he stared at her face and spent the night thinking about kissing her. Just the memory of that feeling had her clenching her teeth and fists, even so many years after.

  
“I wish it had been him”, Sansa, who had just joined her looking at the sparring pair, whispered loud enough for Arya to hear, but not for the guards.  
“What do you mean?”, Arya answered.  
“The Baratheon bastard. I wish I had never set foot in Kingslanding, of course, but if I had to be taken there to marry a son of King Robert, I wish he had been the true born one. He is certainly as good looking as Joffrey, if not better, and he’s quiet, and brave, and polite, and a good friend to Jon. I think not even having grown up in palace with Cersei as a mother would have turned him into the kind of monster Joffrey was.”

  
Arya was speechless, which was not a normal occurrence.

  
“Do you truly not find him handsome, Arya?” Sansa said, looking slightly surprised.  
“He is shorter than you,” was all Arya could come up with.  
“Most men are. As far as I know, I have never been rejected on such grounds”, Sansa half-smiled, not taking her eyes off what was happening in the courtyard.

  
What was Arya supposed to say? “I know I want to kiss him and I know he wants to kiss me too”? Someone, anyone, wanting to kiss Arya horseface instead of beautiful Sansa. How ridiculous did that sound, even if it was true? She was trying to come up with something, whatever, when Brienne disarmed Gendry. To be fair, he had held his ground against her a lot longer than most could. Sansa giggled in a way Arya had not heard from her in years. She put an arm around her shoulders and brought her closer.

“Forgive me, sister, for teasing you. I needed to see for myself whether my intuition was right. If it helps, there are few things I wish for less than a new husband. Not that I think I stand a chance. However, I am not sure the rest of the ladies under our protection in Winterfell are as unwilling to try their luck. Or the wilding women. Or the kitchen maids. Or…”  
“I thought you were done teasing me”, Arya half-growled.

  
Sansa signalled the guards to follow her on the way back to the castle. She had only walked a few steps when she turned around.

  
“Arya!”, she called.  
“Lady Stark?”, her sister answered, mocking a bow.  
“Winter is here. There is no time to waste.”

 

* * *

 

_I initially thought of this fic as a one shot, but the idea of expanding it is starting to feel tempting._


	2. A question of beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before. Very short chapter.

Arya had always thought them stupid, all the knights in Sansa's beloved songs who would go to war just for the beauty of their ladies. One might rise in arms for honour, loyalty, duty... For family, of course. But beauty? It seemed to her like the most idiotic way to get oneself killed over NOTHING. And yet, there she was, thinking she would go to war against all of Westeros, the living and the dead, only to have another look at Gendry's beautiful shoulders. And his fine arms, and legs. His blue eyes, and the way he frowned at any piece in the forge until it became *exactly* what he wanted it to be. The delightful feeling when his calloused hands caressed her skin, and his magnificent back arching while they were making love. 

 

Still, in the morning they would indeed be going to war for a very different reason, and the odds were that their song would not get the kind of happy ending that used to make Sansa and Jeyne giggle and blush, and Arya sigh in annoyance. How could she have known, all those years ago, that she would one day be sighing for the lack of a happy ending? 

Gendry awakens under the cloak and stares at her through tired, but keen eyes. 

"M'lady", he smiles, awkwardly. "Something was said that I need taken back."

Arya's back stiffens. Men say stupid things in bed. She had heard it from the whores in Braavos millions of times. And that bloody bull seemed to hoard all the stupidity in Westeros, because he had whispered very, VERY stupid things in her ear just some hours ago. She knows, she has always known, life is not a song, but it doesn't stop his words from stinging. 

"What you said about us dying today," he whispers against her neck, "I don't think so. I want to get naked with you again," he grins, all smugness, like living or dying  today is in their hands.

It's the most foolish thing she has ever heard from him, and that is saying something. And he says it so earnestly, she is half-inclined to believe him. Song or not, it makes her want to be a bit of an idiot herself, and imagine there is a chance they will both see this through. 

"You better not get yourself killed today then, bull", she says, lifting herself so that she can kiss him properly.

"As you wish, m'lady", he agrees, hands already all over her. 

He's the most beautiful man she has ever seen in her life. 

 


End file.
